Confidence or Dawn in the Dunes

It's not quite dawn and I am standing at the top of a dune at White Sands National Park. Cold, anxious and mesmerized by the breaking light, I can't believe I am here. True, I am the one who signed us up for this adventure—two days at White Sands and one at the Bosque del Apache Wildlife Refuge with the Santa Fe Workshops. At the time, it sounded like just what we needed after so many months of laying low and avoiding groups like our class of 12 fellow photographers. 

Yet as the time for us to leave for Alamogordo drew closer, I became increasingly worried about how I would manage. It had been two years since the accident that had broken my right leg and a full year since the trauma surgeon declared my tibia fully healed. Still, I didn't trust my leg nor my stamina. It had only been a few weeks since I had begun to walk the dog again and not every day. Descending a staircase, I gripped the handrail as if my life depended on it. Not because I was in pain or wobbly, just unsure of my balance, of myself. 

On our first morning at White Sands, I was cautious, overly cautious, not venturing too far into the sands. In fact, my best shot that day was from the car.  When we returned for sunset, I was doing better, venturing further, looking out across the otherworldly landscape for a shot instead of constantly looking at my feet.

The next morning, we were in the car in the dark, fortified by only weak coffee and granola bars, heading back to the dunes. I had some lingering trepidation, but sunrise was not going to wait for me. First light and I was ready, camera settings in place, facing east. It was the kind of morning photographers dream about with soft clouds and shadows on the sand, sculptural yuccas posing for their portraits and views forever. 

My confidence grew as the sun rose, tinting the sky and the sand with a painterly pastel palette. How long was I there? I have no idea. Not exactly surefooted, but no longer frightened, I stood, knelt, sat and wandered in the gypsum sands trying to find the right angle, to frame the best shot, to capture this amazing morning. 

Then it was full light and time to move on. Was there a single good shot in my camera? It didn't matter, it had been a magical experience. I felt stronger and more confident than I had in two years. It was a gift.